


Dark Danger

by maryann234



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-15 20:29:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11238606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maryann234/pseuds/maryann234
Summary: Hermione is mysteriously summoned by Professor Snape and escorted to the Headmaster's office, and promptly sent back in time to complete a mission she has finished before.Only she fits in so seamlessly, Hermione begins to wonder when she came from and where she will end up.





	1. Chapter 1

She went hesitantly done the cold stone stairs, trying to wonder why she had been called into Slytherin territory by the King Slytherin. The note from Professor Snape had burnt itself up after she read it, which just intrigued her more. Why would he go to such measures to ensure that he could meet privately with her?  
Her footsteps echoed slightly in the halls of the dungeons. Looking around she noted several silent but leering portraits following her progress. Shivering in the cold, she cast a warming charm as well as a silencing charm on her shoes. Encouraged, she trod onward toward the Potions room, to where the Head's office lay. She clutched her beaded bag a little closer and her wand stretched outward. The note had specifically asked her to come after hours and urged secrecy. Since her patrol had ended a half hour ago, it was as good of an excuse as any if she came across any other personnel.   
Reaching the portrait of the Head, she debated whether to knock, or continue with the secrecy that Professor Snape had started. In the next instant the choice was taken out of her hands as the portrait melted briefly and a pair of large hands grabbed her arms, jerking her inside.   
Immediately after her body cleared the opening, the portrait became whole once more. For a moment he held her, his surprisingly warm body supporting her from behind. Abruptly he inhaled, and quickly moved away.   
Turning around she found her dark Professor was now several feet from her, his dark high necked robes still properly fashioned, blending in with the shadows around him.   
Curious, she tried to look up at him, but his features were guarded by shadow. She felt the impact of a charm, a silencing charm she realized a moment later.  
“Follow me.” He murmured.   
Mystified Hermione nodded and promptly followed him as he turned on his heel and stalked away. A length of corridor later he tapped the wall three times to reveal another door. Muttering closely to himself he then preceded her into the room.  
“Sit. We don't have a lot of time.”  
She sat, internally confused while his back was turned to her and he fiddled with something.   
Finally he turned, leaning against the table, taking in her small form with wild hair. A strange look came across his face, similar to a smile, but more fond than anything. That was odd; she didn't believe he had any other expressions other than annoyed, angry, angrier, and angriest. He picked up two bundles of books and a necklace before coming to stand before her.   
“Miss Granger.” He started, and then abruptly dropped to his knees before her. She instinctively leaned back but he leaned forward, invading her space. His dark eyes connected with her own, searching intently for something unknown. “Hermione.” He murmured.   
At her confused and alarmed look he cleared his throat. He fiddled with the necklace for a moment and then began again. “When my mother was a sixth year, Grindelwald was still rampaging in Europe. As a result a great many French students arrived monthly seeking to continue their studies in safety.   
Right before her sixth year, my mother, Eileen Prince, was taking advanced Potion lessons from a Master Potioneer, her uncle, Hector Dagworth Granger. It was during this time that a previously unknown cousin of hers fled France, seeking safety with Hector, who was also this girl's uncle. This cousin's name was Harmony Granger.”   
He paused, as Hermione's eyes widened. Before she could speak he moved onward. “They became best friends, the only friend my mother would ever claim. Back then, most girls did not stay for their seventh year as by then most would be married off. My mother and her cousin were separated after their sixth year and never saw one another again.  
Before Harmony Granger disappeared at the end of her sixth year, presumably to be married off by her recently recovered father, she gave my mother her necklace. It is a key, leading to a private potions room hidden behind the portrait of Catherine of Aragon on the first floor.”   
He leaned forward, carefully brushing her hair off to the side as he clasped the necklace around her neck. His fingers lovingly traced the silver chain of the necklace, hovering in the hollow of her neck.   
Hermione felt her breath hitch. There was something sensual in his gesture, something deep and hidden. Layers. This man had so many layers, and she was being shown one of the deepest.  
He took out his wand and waved it several times around the necklace, concentrating intently on the small silver pendant. “It will remain invisible to others, and untraceable. You may see and touch it only.” Finally he gestured at the books. “These will help you return. Put them in that bag of yours.”   
The Professor waited while she slipped them inside. “Now listen carefully.” He found her gaze once more, his voice sharpening with purpose. “At the end of October or beginning of November of this year there will be a Death Eater attack on the school. Dumbledore will be killed by my hand, as he wishes it.” He emphasized.   
He paused as Hermione looked at him stricken. Then her mind began to whirl. Finally she nodded, showing her acceptance and understanding.   
He continued wearily. “The Ministry will fully succumb to the Dark Lord, and Hogwarts will be under his reign. I may or may not be here.” He paused, looking old beyond his years. “When you return, use that room. Do not contact me directly. Use the Black portrait.” He paused, looking at her again, as if absorbing this picture for all time.  
Tenderly he tucked a stray curl behind her ear. As his hand dropped it seemed to impulsively find hers, clutching it tightly. She started under the contact, but did not pull away. The note of urgency in his voice, the way he was imparting this information, she could not ignore the desperation in this situation. “Dumbledore is acting as he thinks best, but remember this; Grindelwald's phrase was also “For the Greater Good.”   
She opened her mouth but the silencing charm was still in effect. The pieces were coming together, and to say she was alarmed about the fact she was supposedly traveling back in time so far was a gross understatement.   
“You will lose your memory but this necklace is programmed to replay this memory as a trigger for the others. You needn't worry too much about affecting the time stream either, too many students came and went during that period. My mother was the only one who remembered, and she mourned your loss heavily..” He ended softly. “You were the best friend, the greatest companion she ever had, and for that you had her love and admiration for her entire life.”   
Tears gathered in her eyes. Tenderly he brushed them away, and he uncharacteristically leaned his forehead against hers. Their breaths mingled for a moment as they soaked in the situation together. It was so surreal, and she gripped his hand tightly as he held her close for a moment. A cliff among the waves.  
A clock chimed in the distance and he swore. Taking her face in both hands he captured her gaze searchingly before sighing. “If I were a young man...” Gently he touched his lips to hers. She sat shocked out of her mind. If it weren't for the fact they were in his office, she would have him at wand-point and demand him to prove his identity.   
Abruptly he stood. Was he blushing? Grasping her arm he stood, pulling her with him. “Come with me.” Grabbing a vial from his desk he swiftly marched her out of the office and up several flights of stairs. Outside of Dumbledore's office he stopped, removing the silencing charm.   
Wisely she stayed silent, even as she reeled from the situation. Obviously Dumbledore was about to do something that ended with her trekking back in time. The intensity of Snape's voice, and the emotions in his gaze convinced her of the reality of the situation.   
Clutching her beaded bag, with her wand safely stowed away next to those books, Hermione followed her professor up the stairs into the round office.   
Different instruments whirred and clicked around them as they stood before Dumbledore. His blue gaze with their intense twinkle took them in.   
“Miss Granger, Severus. Thank you for joining me.”  
“I caught up with her just as she finished her rounds Albus. No one saw.” He said stiffly as he handed him the vial.  
“Professors? May I ask what this is about? Professor Snape said you urgently needed to see me, is this about my parents?” She said earnestly with the right hint of fear. Snape looked at her, a brief flash of a smile on his face at her acting skills. Why hadn't she been placed in Slytherin with him sooner?   
Dumbledore smiled kindly. “My apologies Miss Granger. I should have called you here with more finesse. This is a matter of some delicacy, and requires utmost secrecy.”   
He stood and came around the front of the desk. “ I have been keeping close track of your progress in your studies and I have been quite impressed. You have become masterful in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, and if I am not mistaken you have created quite a few spells yourself.” She flushed with pride. “Not to mention your Animagus form. Quite an accomplishment for a fourth year.”   
This time she paled while Snape looked at her stoically. So she had been found out. After learning about Marauders talents she had in turn achieved the same. In fourth year she succeeded, but kept it quiet for the past two years. Obviously she had been caught out. “How...” She stammered.   
Dumbledore winked. “You are not the only unregistered Animagus in these halls, Miss Granger.” His voice was gentle, and he briefly glanced at Professor Snape, who had looked off to the side.  
“Anyway, there is a situation which has come to my attention, and in order for it to happen, I need your cooperation.”  
“What kind of situation, sir?”   
He sighed heavily. “I wish I could tell you, Miss Granger. My apologies in advance, this will not be easy for you for many reasons, but it must happen.” With that he waved his wand over her and she felt the strength go out of her.   
With barely a gasp she went down, nearly crashing to the floor. Snape's quick hands caught her around the waist, holding her up. Gently he swung her up in his arms, his firm skilled hands giving her a small sense of strength. Dumbledore came over with the vial.   
Vaguely she heard him speak.“I need you to swallow this Miss Granger.” He tipped her head back and she felt the cool glass being tipped down her throat. She swallowed gently, feeling as weak as a newborn kitten. Dumbledore had a surprisingly firm grasp, and he ensured she swallowed all of it. She allowed her eyes to reflect the inner betrayal she was feeling.  
As he stepped back a gasp echoed from the doorway. “What do ye think ye're doin'!” Her Head of House stepped inside carrying an old trunk, which she dropped in favor of pointing her wand at the two men.   
Enraged beyond belief, face red with temper, Minerva McGonagall's Scottish brogue came in full force, and her small stature puffed up to its full height. She looked fit to burst, her gaze bouncing between Hermione and the Headmaster.  
Dumbledore stepped away from Hermione, who blacked out as he did so, and turned toward his second in command. Although his face radiated calm, Severus was personally betting that he was swearing every name in the book at the arrival of the fierce, protective, powerful, Head of House. “We are sending Miss Granger off to where she needs to be. Certain precautions must be made in order to do so.”   
Minerva strode forward angrily. “This is a fool's errand Albus and ya ken it. If she was meant’ta go back she would have gone back naturally. Who knows what this might do to the timeline! She is a lass, Albus, and as clever and intelligent as she may be, she has no practical knowledge in the realm of men! You cannot expect her to seduce-”   
She was abruptly cut off as Dumbledore waved his wand, sending her with a jarring “off” through the secret passage behind the bookshelves. Behind the shelves was a bright golden room and a giant bed covered with intensely red, green, blue, and yellow bed-sheets. Little badgers ambled across the spread as ravens circled overhead. The Snake and Lion face one another across the bed, glaring at each other in a face off.   
Once she landed on the bed with a grunt, her tartan robes flapping around wildly, Albus swung the door shut and warded it. They could still hear the shouting of the fully enraged Scot, her screams of fury echoed by blasts of wand-work on the door. Albus negligently cast a silencing charm, before walking over to the trunk. Snape had stiffened, his grip on the petite young woman in his arms tightening protectively, and turned his attention accusingly to the elder man.   
“Now then, that must be the clothing I asked her to bring up. Pity she didn't come sooner.”  
“Albus.” Snape said tightly. “You never mentioned anything about seduction in this plan.”  
“Oh don't mind her.” He said absently as he scanned the room. “Where did I put that letter?”  
Severus gripped Hermione a little tighter against his chest. “Albus. Who is the target exactly?”  
Albus turned to face him with piercing blue eyes. “The same it has always been. Don't worry I have taken precautions. There will be no little ones running around anytime soon. ” He said negligently. “If it gets that far her memory will return.”  
Fury gripped Snape, a deep bank of flame that swirled around in rage. “How dare you do this to her!” Dumbledore stopped, facing his very much enraged Potions professor. He tilted his head, observing the professor. Opposition in this quarter had not been expected. He was silent as he watched the normally stoic man flush brilliantly with rage.  
“She is very much like Lily then.” The sentence hit Snape like a blow, but he refused to flinch. In fact he stood up straighter, angrier at the gall of the man in front of him.  
“This has nothing to do with Lily! Hermione Granger is a seventeen year old girl. She has fought in a war, seen horrors, witnessed brokenness, but she is a Gryffindor! She wears her heart on her sleeve, couldn't lie for all the books in the Library, and is obsessed with equal rights for all creatures. You are throwing her back into WWII Wizarding England to go after one of the darkest wizards in history? Even her own House mates don't view her as female, and she is clueless what to even do with a man!”  
“Nevertheless she will go.” Albus said firmly. “It is her destiny. She has been before and she will go now. As for the results, we shall see. If there is anyone who can do this, I am positive that it is her. While she may not be, shall we say, experienced, she is going because she is intelligent and very clever. She can adapt more readily than any other Order Member, and her worldliness will only help.   
On top of that, she is one of few who speaks fluent French, and five other languages, just like a true European. This is essential in her cover story.” He levitated the trunk and cast a Disillusion charm on them. “We need to go now.”  
He grabbed a piece of paper and a wrapped object. Severus chanced one last longing look at the still warm body in his arms. What horrors would they further expose her to?   
Briefly he let the feeling of betrayal consume, both the one he was about to commit, and the one committed on him by his mentor. Then he came to stand by the headmaster, who gripped his arm. Within seconds they disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)

“Hello? Are you awake?” A hand nudged her shoulder and she groaned. “Oh my, she must be in pain. Eileen will you be a dear and help me levitate her trunk inside? We shall go to the pink room I think. A letter? Better send that off then. Slughorn will sort out her business in Hogwarts.”  
Vaguely she registered a gently breeze as she was transported into a building. They climbed quite a number of stairs before she was placed gently into a soft bed. Blackness ate at her vision.

When she next stirred, disorientation clouded her mind as she looked around. She was inside a beautiful room decorated in classic french style. The walls were a salmon pink color, the furniture was a matching cream, and hints of pink cream were reflected in the pictures around the room. Gauzy curtains billowed in front of the glass doors which led to a balcony. The light wood floors had a beautiful cream rug which, she reflected, must be cleaned fairly often.   
A memory tried to pull its way into her vision, but the headache it caused blinded her as vague impressions of voices came and went. Finally everything settled.   
That's right, she recalled. I was fleeing France to stay with my father's cousin, Mr. Dagworth-Granger. He lives in Tinworth, by Cornwall. A Potion Master, she supposed. A vague feeling of sadness ghosted across her vision as she thought of her parents. They were missing according to her government.   
Next to her bed lay a beaded bag which seemed vaguely familiar. She opened it and peered inside. It was dark. Musing gently, she called forth mentally her wand. It came.  
Taking it out she examined carefully for cracks or dents. Everything appearing in order, she swung her legs around to the floor, finding a pair of warm slippers waiting. Smiling to herself, she placed her feet inside, wrapping them gently into the warm wool. Gently she placed her beaded bag on her bedside table before looking for her trunk. Spotting it at the end of her bed she stood shakily and went to it. It was empty.   
Turning to the wardrobe she opened the door. Everything was neatly arranged inside. She took her dressing gown down and smiled. It was the same light plaid green cashmere material as her current gown, but gently brushed her figure all the way to the floor. She had a brief vision of her mother in it. Her mother had loved plaid. Or did she? A woman with dark hair in a tight bun came to mind. Was her mother Scottish?  
Frowning she fingered the pattern as the memory refused to solidify. Maybe traveling had messed with her memories?  
A sharp crack announced the presence of a House elf. It's' tea towel was clean and bright, drawing her eye immediately. “Missy, I is being told to take you to dinner with the Master.”  
“Thank you. What is your name?” She said gently. The elf looked up with wide eyes and then snapped back down into a bow.   
“I is being Hanky.”  
“Thank you Hanky. Would you mind leading me downstairs after I dress?”  
The elf trembled. “Yes, of course Missy.”  
He snapped out of the room, and she turned to wardrobe. Visions of fashion techniques whirled through her mind a she stared at the clothing, and she frowned as she put a hand on her head. It was like details were rushing into her head last minute.   
When it stopped, she looked up and recognized her informal dinner gown of deep blue. It was trimmed with ribbon in a lighter blue and had a modest neckline. She found matching gloves and shoes deeper in the closet. The necklace she wore, her mother's, went charmingly well with the ensemble. She had promised not to take it off, and wore it every day as a momento.  
As she dressed she tried to remember more details about her life before coming here but it was all a fog. Similarly, details about her uncle were vague and hazy in her mind. Intrigued she picked her mind for more things and found the urge to read was fairly strong. In fact, she loved to read and learn new things. She was fluent in several languages. French, Latin, Greek, Italian, and English of course, but also German and, oddly enough, Bulgarian. Who had taught her that?!   
The thought brought up the memory learning with a tutor rather than in a school. She particularly loved Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and Potions. Frowning she recalled her mastery of Charms and as well, and the spells she had created. Transfiguration...Animigus! She was an Animigus!  
Her eyes went wide with discovery. Of course! She had spent countless hours in the owlery over the years with her familiar, her curiosity grew, and she pursued her studies on her own time. No. Hermione frowned. That didn't sound right. Pacing in her silk skirts she frowned at the honey floor.   
A sharp crack announced the arrival of Hanky. She smiled and the elf bowed low before leading her out the door. She quickly realized how large this manor was. They went down two flights of stairs, and as she looked up she counted two more floors! The décor was rather nice, with a mixture of light and dark woods offset with colorful wallpaper and hangings. Several looked like they may have been acquired abroad, and she thought she even saw a traditional Bulgarian piece.   
Finally they reach a large set of double doors. Hanky announced her and found herself in a small dining area. There were two people at the table already, sipping at soup as she walked in. The gentleman immediately rose to greet her with a kiss on each cheek.  
“Harmony! My dear I was quite sure you would recover. It is such a pleasure to meet my little niece from France. Tell me, are there any lingering effects from your nasty fall? My cousin was never any good at transportation spells and it seems he has been less than gentle.” Harmony? Her mind whirled until it supplied her with information.   
“Uncle.” She smiled warmly. “I find my mind a little hazy, probably from the bump on my head, but I woke to find myself in beautiful furnishings and now with wonderful company. What girl can complain?” His warm brown eyes were of a similar shade to hers, and he even had the same corkscrew curls as her, albeit in a much darker shade of rich brown. His features were perhaps a little rounded, but his disposition seemed merry.  
“Good. Good. Oh! Allow me to introduce you to your cousin Eileen Prince. I believe you have never met.” Hermione turned and smiled at the other girl.   
“We are the same age, no? I am happy to find that I do indeed have a cousin. My father was never very open to sharing details.” Briefly Hermione noted she held no trace of a French accent in her English, but ignored it as Eileen turned around slowly.  
The dark haired girl looked her over, a dour expression on her face. She seemed sallow skinned and brooding with a deep expression on her face. Her nose was sharp and straight, and she appeared to use it to peer down at others. As the girls stood, Hermione found that she was very tall and thin. Going off her own height of 5'6, she would have to guess Eileen was closer to 5'10.  
“Indeed.” The girl held herself stiffly and formally. “I am afraid I never heard much about you either.” Hermione felt her smile falter. Suddenly she had a vision of a similar person, a man, doing the same thing. He was taller but the features were the same.   
“Pardon, but do you have an older brother or cousin with your features? I feel as though I have met you previously.” She said as they sat. Her own soup, French Onion, appeared on her plate. She paused as the correct information once more crowded her mind. Suddenly she knew everything she needed to know about cutlery etiquette.   
“I don't think so.” She sniffed, her dark eyes fixed on her soup. “My maternal grandmother had your father and my mother, and she also had that sister who married into the Dumbledore family. My paternal grandmother only had my father. My grandfather was an only child. Obviously my mother and Hector were the only children. As far as I know I am also an only child, though I suppose we shall find out shortly anyway.”  
Hermione looked quizzically at Eileen but didn't comment. Hector cleared his throat. “Anyway, I know how eager you are to learn, Harmony, so we can start your lessons as soon as you feel able. You shall join Eileen and me in the Potions lab.”   
Hermione smiled. “Could you explain to me what you are working on?”  
She asked Hector but turned to speak with Eileen. She stiffened, scowling a bit. At a glance from Hector though she sighed and continued. “We are investigating a better way to create a Restorative Potion. In my fourth year there was huge problem where students were being Petrified by a large spider. The victims were trapped for months in St. Mungos because the only known cure is an extremely expensive paste which takes a year to make. We have been researching several ways in which we could possibly make a better one.” She peered at Hermione and looked startled to find that Hermione was smiling, excited.   
“That's fantastic! Which ingredients have you been focusing on? Have you done a ton of research, I bet you have found so much!”  
Hector smiled, taking her hand gently in his. “You have your mother's enthusiasm, that's for sure. She is a stoic Bulgarian, but give her a research project and off she goes!” He wiped a tear from his eye. That solved the Bulgarian mystery.  
Hermione smiled. “What else have you been working on Uncle?”  
“We have been working on a cure of the Conjunctivitis Curse, oh and a cost effective Poly-juice potion.”  
Another hazy memory tried to wiggle its way forward. Hermione suddenly broke out in a sweat, her hands pressing into her temples to ease the pain. Something about a large snake, a stone room, and a bathroom? It was so close, faces forming, two boys? A cat?   
“Harmony!” She shook her head to find that Hector was kneeling in front of her concerned. Eileen was half standing, half sitting as she looked at her cousin.  
“Uncle?” She said weakly. “I apologize for my lapse. I must have hit my head harder than I though.”  
“Dear girl, if you feel ill please say the word and you can eat upstairs.” His brown eyes searched hers for any more pain or fatigue. He was caught off guard when she suddenly smiled. She clasped her hands in his for a moment.  
“You are truly kind. It would be rude of me to miss my first meal in this country. I should like to hear everything about you and your work. We have missed so much time already.”   
At this Hector seemed to relax, and began to gaily tell her about his work, some funny stories, and about his wife who passed away ten years ago, and his Squib son who had gone to live with Muggles. He didn't hold it against them, he said sadly, but there was a feeling of regret and loneliness in his posture that touched her.   
During the meal, slow cooked meat with wild mushrooms, a spinach salad, and fresh fruit, Hermione could feel Eileen's gaze occasionally drift over to her as if searching for something.   
Finally Hector stood. “Well ladies, it is time for me to retire and do some estate work. I trust you will entertain one another, perhaps in the library? You have a whole summer to read whatever you wish. Harmony,” He turned thoughtfully. “If your family accounts remain frozen, remind me to go shopping you before school begins. No niece of mine will show up with old clothing.” Humming to himself the girls dipped into a slight curtsy as he left.   
Silence reigned for a couple of minutes as they finished up their fruit. Hermione finished before Eileen and waited for her. The dark girl said nothing so that the silence stretched.   
Finally Hermione stood. “Would you be able to show me to the library? I admit I am intrigued by your projects and would like to read up on Restorative Draughts.”   
Eileen nodded silently. Hermione sensed that it would take a while before the other girl opened up to her even a little bit. Obviously there was little cousinly feeling between them yet.   
They became best friends, the only friend my mother would ever claim.   
Hermione stopped abruptly as the phrase registered to her. Where had she heard that before? Why did she feel as though it meant Eileen and herself?   
Eileen also stopped to peer behind her.  
“Are you feeling unwell?”  
Hermione shook her head. “No, apologies.”   
Silence continued as they walked down the plushly carpeted halls. Finally they entered another room with a massive set of double doors. The library, like the rest of the house, was massive. The ground floor had wall to wall bookshelves. A small second floor ringed the room, and contained another small seating area in a loft area.   
“Wow.” She breathed. “Impressive.”  
Eileen gave her a slight smile, the first she had seen on the girl. It made Hermione smile wider.   
Maybe their friendship wasn't impossible. 

A week later Hermione had finally gotten used to being called Harmony. She wasn't sure why she was so sure she was named Hermione, and called Harmony, but she put it down to a mistranslation/mispronunciation and left it there.   
Slowly the relationship between Eileen and Hermione began to progress as well. After an enthusiastic conversation regarding potion ingredients, they had begun to work well together under the tutelage of Hector. She learned that Hector was very peculiar about people and items, which is why he was somewhat of a recluse. Hermione also found that the reason for the bitter comment about her “brother” was brought on by his parentage claims from some prostitute in Knockturn alley. This, of course, was disgraceful. Not only was the child a male, but her father was thinking about claiming him as an heir. Her mother was scandalized and very vocal about it from her own house in Wales. Her parents had lived apart since her birth, and she had spent years bouncing between them.   
With careful conversation, Hermione learned that even though Eileen was a bit moody and dark featured, it was only due to being bullied in school and at home. Hermione found that she was also actually a very dedicated student of Potions and enjoyed Herbology as well. They shared similar tastes in many things, including books, and to top it all off, they were born five days apart, with Hermione on the 19th of September, and Eileen on the 14th.  
The back solar was full of potions ingredients carefully tended by the shy girl. Eileen was also President of the Gobstones club, and they began to play nearly every night. Hermione found that Eileen made a wonderful reading partner who was comfortable with silence or stopping mid book to discuss an interesting article.   
In the lab, which was very well equipped being a Master's lab, the two girls quickly found that they shared a very even rhythm and worked very well together.   
Their breakthrough came one evening in the middle of the night. Hermione fell asleep in the library while Eileen sat close by.  
A vague memory came to her, the one about the Snake and the stone dungeon. There were running spiders and bloody roosters at her feet. A maze of books trapped her while the snake chased her until she came face to face with a mirror. Suddenly she froze and found herself in an infirmary of sorts with a kindly looking nurse tending to her. Around her were other frozen bodies with indistinct faces. Suddenly the dark haired man, the one who looked so much like Eileen, appeared before her. He ran a hand tenderly over her face, cupping it tenderly. Looking around he whispered something before his face softened. He gazed at her, taking in her features slowly, like a starving man. Slowly he bent over to place a kiss on her forehead.  
“The Mandrakes are almost ready. Soon you will be back in class, bossy and over eager as always. I want to see your hand waving enthusiastically again. Don't ever change Hermione. My mother needs you too much.”  
Then he straightened, a cold mask overtaking his features. Confused Hermione stood frozen as she watched him fade away. A small cut on her hand brought her attention around. In her fist was a tightly crumpled piece of paper. It burned in her hand, as if it were the most important piece of information that she needed to share. She needed to tell someone, anyone...  
With a start she woke. Eileen was now dozing next to her, her head on her hand. Hermione sat on the sofa for a minute, mulling over her dream. Then something clicked.   
“Eileen!” She whispered excitedly. “That's it!” Abruptly she stood racing over to the bookshelves. Climbing one of the ladders she scanned the shelves excitedly.   
“Hermione?” A sleepy voice called from the sofa. “What are you doing?”  
“Eileen I got it! I know what we are missing! Oh I was so stupid not to recognize it, I've done it before!”  
This brought Eileen to full attention, her feet back on the floor.  
“What?”  
Finding the book Hermione jumped to the floor and raced over to where her cousin waited.   
Flipping the pages excitedly she explained what she had found. “You said that it was giant spider, but spiders don't petrify their prey. Think of the legend of Medusa. It was a head of snakes not spiders. So I thought, what kind of snakes are known to petrify. I read a story, a long time ago, a folk tale about a snake which entered a village after all of the roosters were killed by wolves.” Eileen's expression dawned. “The roosters at Hogwarts were all killed as well!” She whispered.   
Hermione nodded and continued. “ At first the villagers were happy, but then one by one they were petrified. Some even died. In the story, all of the spiders fled the area, which led the ecosystem to gradually break down. The bug population thrived and soon magical diseases were rampant. In the folk tale, it spoke of a hero, a brave boy, who was gentle and loved plants. After all of the fighting men were killed, he was left alone to try and protect his family. He made a potion,” She flipped through more pages, “and I believe he used Mandrake root. Here,” She opened to the section on the properties of Mandrake root. “...screams are fatal...maturity....here! The Mandrake root is rumored to be used widely in Greek communities for a variety of potions and poultices. Use spread north by gypsies and ended up in England around the tenth century. Wizarding Potion Masters are notably adverse to using this ingredient, which is difficult to grow and harvest. It is however a main ingredient in a number of relaxant potions, as well as for paralysis of the brain.”  
Eileen had turned first pale and then gradually more and more flush as Hermione read.   
“This is it!” She cried. “It has to be. The properties listed here match perfectly, and I bet that if you added it to you Arithmancy equation, it would balance out!” They stood up clasping hands and started to jump up and down in an out of character and completely undignified squealing session.  
When they calmed down, Hermione pulled out a sheet of paper and ink, and then began to do the equations. True to speculation, it matched perfectly and induced another happy giggling session of the two girls.   
Smiling wider than they had ever in recent memory, which for Hermione wasn't much, they gathered their materials and resolved to present their research to their uncle at breakfast. 

Fifty years in the future, a dark haired man swiftly strode forward, his gait steady and confident. Chaos reigned below him where comrades of Light and Dark furiously fought one another for survival. Students were holed up in their dorms as their beloved professors fought to drive the forces of dark from permeating the school.   
He arrived to the final set of stairs, which he took just as swiftly as the previous set. When he finally burst onto the scene it was to Draco bloody Malfoy holding his mentor at wand-point. The lovely but insane Bellatrix Lestrange goaded her nephew on as the bloody werewolf Fenrir watched eagerly from the side. He recognized the profiles of Mulciber and Nott as well.  
Draco Malfoy, the latest in the long noble lineage looked like he was in serious trouble. The wizard at the end of his wand looked ragged, broken, and not totally aware of his surroundings. A scrape underneath brought his attention discreetly below him. Inwardly he cursed. The old fool had gone out for another Horcrux and brought Potter with him.  
His godson wavered, his face twisted and pink with the effort not to cry or falter. The crazy bitch laughed, goading him on even as she mocked him, giving Severus Snape an equally mocking gaze. Taunting him. Goading him. Well fine.   
As he strode everything seemed to go in slow motion. His mind went to Hermione Granger and the mission she had been sent on. With every detail he went over the kiss he had last shared with her, the look on her face as Dumbledore had petrified her unannounced. The old fool had not even told her what the whole mission was.   
He thought of his lovely broken mother as she tried to shield him from the drunken ramblings of his Italian father; the way she clutched her necklace like a beacon of hope; the way she whispered her friend's name over and over, like a mantra of faith; the brief flush of her cheeks with happiness as she recalled childhood memories of her cousin to her small son; The last pleading gaze she had given her husband as he beat her into unconsciousness; a sleep she had never awoken from. This last part, combined with Hermione's face is what made him straighten his shoulders in rage as he steadily walked forward to meet his mentor.   
“Severus..please.” The old man's blue eyes did not twinkle. They met his own dark eyes with a degree of readiness.   
With one last distinct step he pushed his godson, yet unbroken, out of the way.   
“Avada Kedavra.” He spoke coldly, and watched as the old fool fell slowly to his death. Coldness, still ice flooded him, and all emotion seemed to be wretched away.   
There were shrieks of glee, of sadness, hysteria, all around him. Draco surged forward and Snape held him, giving him a shake of the head. The look his godson gave him nearly broke his resolve. The depth of betrayal, of anguish, in his gaze was haunting.   
With a small shove, he proceeded to lead the Death Eaters down the stone stairs of Hogwarts. Shame threatened to overburden him as he stoically watched his former comrades give him looks of shock, betrayal, and horror. He truly had become the most unpopular professor that Hogwarts had ever seen.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. I often get inspired to write at odd times, or get writers block haha. None of my stories are fully written, just a warning to all. 
> 
> Sometimes I only have a vague idea of where I want them to go. 
> 
> Thank you for the lovely comments.

The consummate energy that swept over the Granger household was startling to those who might have looked from the outside. Like a blaze, the glint of knowledge and intellectual power had been stoked among the three Granger kin, and as such the results were amazing. After the Mandrake had been introduced to the potion, the results were startling and immediate. The newly formed potion effects were faster in their progress, and the mice they tested also appeared to have fewer lingering effects that others.   
The progress was duly documented by them, and would be peer reviewed at a later date. The fire though, that had been stoked continued to blaze. After the Mandrakes had bettered the Restorative potion, the three of them tackled the remaining two potions of interest. It was Eileen who first came upon the modification of lacewings, and Hermione who changed the number of days they were stewed. Hector was fired up, taking fewer naps and walks, and holed himself up with the two girls in the library and potions lab.   
Hermione, whose best subjects besides Potions were Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, confirmed all additions and changes first through number work. Eileen, as it turns out, was very good at Herbology, and so continued to care for their garden, even with some of the more advanced work. Hector brewed the most difficult parts, tearing the manor apart in some cases in order to find the more rare Potion ingredients and supplies.   
It was in this way that the three of them consumed most of their time until there was but one week left within the summer spell. It was here that they finally finished all three works, and thus found themselves without anything to do.   
Hermione and Eileen were by now the best of confidants, and determined that they would spend the rest of the week together by traveling around.   
By carriage they flew to Ireland, spending two days and one night touring ancient magical sights. The third day they spent in Muggle London, where they shared a coke and milkshake at a local five and dime. All the girls here wore pastel colored skirts and scarves in their hair or around their neck. At five, the jukebox started, and the girls found themselves being swung around in the most outrageous dances they had ever seen.   
Eileen, who had been opposed to going into Muggle London, burst out into bellowing laughter in her husky voice, the first time Hermione had heard it.   
Between them, the two girls had the whole place laughing and giggling as they attempted to dance the steps required.   
The fourth day they decided to accommodate a swimming hole at the edge of the property. It was quite large, and occupied by every manner of fowl, fish, and beast.   
Thankfully, not leeches.   
Hermione was carefully as she toed her way into the water, but Eileen, in an unusual bold move, ran full force at her cousin, caught her around the middle, and in a move worthy of the best rugby players, slam dunked them both into the middle of the pond.   
Sputtering, they both came up for air, Hermione with mock rage, and Eileen a solid smirk that quickly dissolved into that full belly laugh that Hermione loved so much. Hermione had been unfortunately covered with seaweed, and her hair, as bushy as it is, would not allow the pieces to escape.   
In the light of things, Hermione used it to her advantage and grabbed two handfuls of the stuff. Eileen's eyes widened before they both started moving in a flurry of laughter and splashes. With two giant handfuls of seaweed, Hermione laughed as she chased Eileen first through the water to shore, and then around the bank of the pond three times.   
Eileen, being the taller of the two, was also the faster, and therefore able to keep at distance from her cousin.   
As the sun rose higher in the sky, they both stripped further down from their chemises, which were see through anyway, and they decided to skinny dip instead. Hermione, obviously the more bold the two, came up with the plan first, and Eileen eventually conceded to it after several wards were put up around the pond. If their uncle came to call, they would have time to react.   
Nude, they finally collapsed after a good chase, falling next to one another in the sun. Eileen was giggling like mad as Hermione stretched out in the grass and absorbed the sun.  
“There really isn't anything as good as nude sunbathing.” She sighed. Eileen finally calmed down and relaxed next to her. Eileen's black hair mingled with Hermione's sun kissed curls. Although dry, their hair was still damp.   
“Until you fall asleep.” Eileen added sardonically. They both giggled at the thought of sunburn on their unmentionables.   
“Are you ready for lunch?” Hermione leaned to face her cousin, resting her head on her hand as she turned.   
Eileen smiled and also leaned onto her side. “Undoubtedly.” A mischievous look crossed her face, quirking her lips in a familiar way. “First one to the basket gets the pick of the sandwiches?” Hermione raised her brow for a second, and then they both flew into action.   
Scrambling to their feet, both girls were laughing uncontrollably as they scrambled along the muddy bank to the basket under the willow tree. Eileen squealed as Hermione tripped her, and Hermione squealed as Eileen then tripped her on her way down.   
It was due to these events that they reached the basket at the same time. It was another five minutes before they calmed down enough to open the basket and enjoy their lunches.   
“You know, I imagine this is what it feels like to have a sister.” Hermione mused as she sipped her lemonade.   
Eileen turned to face Hermione. She was silent for a while. When she did speak, she was very solemn as she picked her words out. “No, somehow this is different. In our world, family can betray family, and friends betray friends. Wizarding families are, for the most part, not very close. Friends must be approved by the family head.”   
She took a sip of her coke, which she had been convinced to buy, before continuing slowly. “My own family has taught me to reject the standard of family as being the closest to a person. We are cousins, but we are also best friends, co-workers, and like minds.” She paused. “We have a kind of magic alignment that I think is rare. That we are cousins does not matter.”  
Hermione tilted her head at her cousin. Something in that speech just sounded correct. “We are so much more. You are correct. We feel just right to one another.” She sighed, flopping on her back as she took a bit of her sandwich.   
After a moment she sighed. “I do dread going to school now. What if it changes?” She turned to lock gazes with Eileen. “I really hope it does not. I know it will be something we both need to work at, all friendships are. But this, this is something I want to keep above all else, even my NEWTS.” Eileen gave a mock expression of horror, causing her to giggle.   
“Well, there will be external factors, and we cannot plan for those, but,” She paused, taking Hermione's hands in hers in a rare show of affection. “We will always have this summer with just us. I will always remember this fondly, no matter what the outcome.” Shyly they both smiled at one another before embracing for a moment.   
Both girls blushed as they realized they were still totally nude. Eileen was positively flushed red, while Hermione was more pink.   
“Last one into the lake has to clean the winner's cauldron!” Eileen's eyes widened as Hermione stood abruptly, and a moment later they were both running full force into the lake squealing.

An hour later they were pleasantly floating in the pond, staring at the sky. It was after three, and the thought of returning after a glorious day in the sun was not tempting. They sighed in unison, and then laughed a little.   
“What House do you think I will be in?” Hermione pondered as she watched the sky go by. “Sheep”. She pointed to a cloud form, and Eileen followed with her eyes.  
“I would peg you as a Ravenclaw or Slytherin.” She paused, wiping her black hair away from her body as it tickled her pale skin. “That is definitely a dog.”  
“What about Gryffindor and Hufflepuff?” Hermione frowned. “That is a sheep. Look at the ears.”  
Eileen rolled her eyes. “Hufflepuff is full of kind selfless and jolly people. And that is not a sheep, look at the tail.”  
Hermione laughed. “Are you saying I am not jolly? Also what tail, I see a leash.”  
“You are too driven and ambitious to be one. They have this air of innocence about them I can't explain. Also what sheep has a leash?”   
“Ok. And Gryffindor?” She swiped at a tendril of seaweed which entangled itself in her hair. “The shape has changed. Now I see a dragon.”  
Eileen squinted at the clouds. “Gryffindor requires a quick temper and bold stride. They usually are quick to act, and slow to question. You are very methodical and think through things carefully. I have noticed that you are slow to temper, and are more diplomatic in your ways.” She paused. “Ok I'll concede to a dragon. I think that one over there is a fish.”   
Hermione followed her finger to a smaller cloud to the left of the dragon. “So Slytherin? And that fish has two forward facing eyes.”  
Eileen smiled. “Slytherins are more reserved, as are Ravenclaws. However Slytherins are more selfish in their goals, and sneaky. Many of them are two-faced, and have greater ambitions and dreams that go beyond Hogwarts. They are more careful in the friends they cultivate, and the methods the use. It requires more precision and knowledge of the human psyche than the other houses.” Carefully she moved her arms to drift closer to Hermione. “A fish can have two forward facing eyes.”  
Hermione frowned, lazily paddling her hands to keep her place. “I could be Slytherin. That fish could also be a octopus.”  
Eileen smiled, a chuckle escaping despite her efforts. A dark brow raised. “Octopus, really?Ravenclaw is pretty neutral. I associate them with numbers or Arithmancy. They are scientific and methodical as well. They are also mostly impartial to a situation.   
Have I explained to you the rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor? Hufflepuff usually sides with Gryffindor, but Ravenclaw either balances Slytherin or overpowers them. Slytherin is more inclined to interact with Ravenclaw too.” She paused.   
“Of course I would interact with you regardless of House.” Hermione reached for her hand and grasped it. “But I doubt you will be anything but a Slytherin or Ravenclaw.”  
“Good to know.” Hermione paused and then grinned. “I shall be certain to mention that to this impartial Sorting Hat of yours.”  
Eileen splashed her, and Hermione sat up to splash her back. Everything degraded from there until once more the seaweed was being wielded, only this time by Eileen. Her long legs meant she caught up with Hermione pretty easily, but Hermione was also able to twist and turn more easily than Eileen as well.   
Their shrieks of laughter carried through the trees, masking the approach of several booted feet.  
Hermione had just twisted out of Eileen's grasp yet again, causing her to throw a bit of her precious arsenal of seaweed. Hermione squealed, dodging gracefully before tackling Eileen. They teetered precariously at the edge of the pond, causing Eileen's eyes to go comically wide, before they both fell in with a splash.   
Hermione flipped her hair up as she surfaced turning to laugh at Eileen, who was coming at her with two more gobs of seaweed. Squealing, Hermione ran headlong to the bank, scrambling up it as Eileen came from behind. They were both giggling like mad women, and completely muddy. Seaweed hung from both of them in random places as they once more dodged one another.  
It was as she came around the side of a tree that Hermione felt herself collide with something hard, and warm. A hand reached out to steady her on the shoulder, but it did not let go. Startled she looked up just as Eileen let out a startled shriek.   
The hand holding her belonged to a tall well built young man. This one had long pale blond hair, so pale as to appear nearly white. His blue eyes were darker in color, and were fixed intently on her face as she gazed up at him.   
His clothing was fine, a rich blue color to compliment his eyes perhaps. His boots accented his long legs, the light colored shirt tucked into his pants defined his waist and broad shoulders. Very manly broad shoulders.  
“Oh!” She gasped and tried to back away, suddenly wary of her nakedness. And the mud.  
His hand tightened around her shoulder, staying her progress. Desperately she glanced behind her at Eileen, only to find that she too had been trapped by another man with dark hair.   
The two of them had satisfied smirks in place as they ran up and down the length of their naked bodies. Eileen had moved to press her back against Hermione, and desperately tried to cover her naked length with her hands. If the gaze on her hands were any indication, then it wasn't helping.   
Hermione returned her gaze to the male in front of her, trying to not blush at the way he perused her body. He took his time, starting from her shoulders and then moving back down to her thighs.   
Eileen was trembling in cold and in fear at this point. The seaweed had slipped to the ground, their merriment forgotten.  
“We heard squealing coming from over here and assumed there were in damsels in distress.” His voice was husky and low, his gaze fixated in her chest. “We never imagined we would find two water nymphs instead.”  
The hand on her shoulder fingered one of the damp curls that hung there. “And such tempting water nymphs too. Never thought about what you might be hiding under those robes of yours Prince, but I certainly will now.” The other hand was on his wand, twirling expertly through his hands.   
“I do believe,” Her voice cracked slightly as she raised her head to stare directly into his face. “I do believe you are trespassing, sir. Kindly remove yourself from my person and return to your abode.”  
His lips twitched, a reluctant smile as he played with her curls. The grip on her shoulder neither tightened nor slackened, nor did the wand get put away. “Abode.” He drawled slowly, incredulous. The other one snickered softly. “Abode? I do believe that is the last word that can be used to describe the Manor where I live.” He stressed the word Manor and searched her face for a reaction.   
Hermione was frightened, but not subdued. Even as her fist clenched, she quirked a brow. “You are still trespassing, sir. I also believe we have not been properly introduced. I must say it rather offends my sense of propriety that you have become so familiar with my person without my permission.” She pointedly glanced at his hand on her shoulder.   
To her annoyance, this bravo merely caused her captor to break down into deep full bellied laughter. The other was not far behind, bending double as they heaved.   
Silently, Hermione took this chance to silently summon her wand into her grasp. It zipped around the willow tree, answering to her call. Eileen stiffened behind her, even as the pale man before her suddenly stepped forward.   
“My dear lady. We are in the middle of nowhere, and you are very much naked before me, with no protection.” With no warning her yanked her forward to collide with his chest. It awkwardly pinned her wand between them, so she was unable to cast.   
“Let go immediately.” She said, flinching away. With one large hand he pressed her more fully into him and she gasped lightly at the feel of his chiseled strength. Something warm and hard pulsed against her stomach, and she instinctively fluttered her hips once against it, before forcing herself still.   
Startled and unsure, she gazed at him big luminous eyes. She tried to struggle away by pushing with her trapped hands, but it only caused him to inhale swiftly. His face eased from a smug smirk into something softer. “God I love virgins.” And then he was all over her, swinging her suddenly into a tree, her wrists between one large hand, and the other settled on her waist.   
Taking advantage of her upturned face he kissed her soundly, hungrily, with a sort of wild passion that she had never known previously. Instinctively she struggled, but after a moment she realized that bucking against him was probably not the best thing to do. It made his free hand tweak at her nipple before traveling sensuously down her back to where her thighs met her hips. His warm fingers traced the seam, making her squirm, before dipping in between her legs.   
“Oh!” For a minute, a full minute that she was entirely ashamed of later, Hermione felt her whole body tighten and then relax, the lure of warmth and pleasure that he provided overwhelming. Oh the pleasure!  
Relaxing allowed him to plunder mouth more fully, using his tongue for full effect. He eased off of her mouth to kiss and suck his way voraciously down her neck. His hips ground further into hers, and she felt that same pulse as before, only it was larger and warmer. And she really wanted more.  
With a leg wrapped around his waist, Hermione pushed back at him wantonly, grinding the hard length that pulsed against her into her core, loving the thrill that curled her toes in response. His fingers, which had only been tracing the outside of her entrance, suddenly were inside of her. She stiffened at the intrusion, causing him to pull back, and return his attention to her mouth. The free hand grabbed hold of her butt, and suddenly she was not touching the ground anymore, her legs firmly wrapped around his waist.   
Her wand hand was also free.   
Hesitating for a second, she absorbed the warmth of the male body before her, memorizing the feel of it in a way she had never done before. This man, whoever he was, knew how to kiss really really well.   
Abraxas paused, wrapping one of his hands through her thick hair, using it to roughly to direct her to fully look up at him. He hovered over her lips, where their heavy panting mingled with one another. Her eyes felt so heavy, and she gazed at him dazed. His own pupils were dilated, his gaze heavy as he stared down at her hungrily. Had his eyes always been that silvery? Girding herself, she took action.  
Slowly she brought her wand around and pressed the point of it deliberately along the length of his arousal. She watched his eyes darken, in first anger, then disappointment, and then finally acceptance settled on his features.   
After a moment's hesitation, he gently settled her back down on her feet before stepping away. Their chests were still heaving, and Hermione shivered at the intense blue gaze which he ran over her nude form. When their eyes connected once more, the intensity, the heat of it almost made her run back to his arms.   
From somewhere behind her, Eileen was whimpering.   
The sound distracted her enough to turn, shock running through her as she found her friend on the ground with the other man on top of her. He had twisted his hand roughly through her hair so Eileen cried out, and was roughly handling her delicate flesh while watching her face for signs of pain.   
The blond one took advantage of her distraction to rush her, trying to pin her once more. However, years of training had improved her reflexes, and Hermione acted quickly.   
In a matter of seconds, Hermione had the two indignant men in the air, robes over their heads in and undignified manner as they flapped from one ankle. Their arms flailed about wildly, and their faces turned red almost instantly as they shouted profanities. Their wands remained out of reach.  
Immediately Hermione went to her cousin, who had sunk to her knees sobbing. Her horror of men had been completely realized tonight, and Hermione did not know how to help her.   
“Eileen, did he...”   
“No.” She sobbed, her dark strands covering her face as she buried her head in her hands. “But he,,,he,,,he touched me all over and no one has ever touched me there before, and I don't even touch there!” Tears were pouring down her face, and Hermione felt terrible for the lonely, bullied, timid girl her cousin was in that minute. After being abused for so long, her shyness of the opposite sex had turned into horror.  
Finally she stood, summoning their clothing and helped her cousin back into them before donning her own.  
Removing her hair from under her dress, she finger combed it gently before going back alone to meet the two men.   
Two very unhappy men were waiting for her.   
The dark one spoke first. “Listen here you filthy ungrateful bitch, when my family...”  
“Your family is not here.” She responded coolly, her French accent barely noticeable. “And unless you are willing to terminate your previous marriage agreement, they will not know.” She fixed each of them with a cool glare, passing over the blond's expressionless face.   
“We,” She sniffed, “are of a respectable family within the wizarding world. You,” She emphasized with a stiff finger in their direction, “were trespassing on our land. That means the law is on our side. So, unless you would like to produce a ring or settle an attempted rape charge in court, you had better keep your head down and your mouth shut.”  
“We'll have you charged with assault! Hogwarts will never accept you now.” The dark haired one cackled.  
Hermione tilted her head to the side, challengingly locking eyes with the one who spoke. She had the sense that this one was not completely there mentally. She glanced at the blond one before switching her gaze back to the other.  
“Monsieur, I have not even begun to assault you.” She said with blazing eyes and a husky voice. “You see, I may be underage, but I am also not a student at Hogwarts. Technically I am still a member of the French government, and as such have no trace on my wand.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Too bad for you.”   
“Very clever, mademoiselle, but I do believe that you must still become a citizen, no? Your rights may not be granted if there is a mark against you now.” The pale blond one finally spoke.   
Hermione turned abruptly to face him, striding forward as she walked directly underneath him. She gave him a saucy smile. “Trespassers don't get to press charges. Article 509 section 3 of British Wizarding law. You are on my land without permission, I can therefore do,,,,anything I see fit to remove you.”   
She paused suggestively, tapping her finger to her mouth twice. His eyes seemed to focus in on that action, and his hand clenched into a fist. Her mocking gaze met his and she swore the air fairly crackled with heat. “I do believe that since my cousin and I got you, shall we say, riled up, that we can have the distinct pleasure of cooling you down. Eileen?”  
Eileen strolled into view, a dark aura around her as she deliberately put one foot in front of the other. She was impressive looking, her robes making her willowy frame look tall and elegant. Long strands of twisting wet hair added texture to her features, and the mass looked slightly bushy as it dried. Color had flooded back into her face, making her usual milky skin appear healthy. Her traditional scowl was back in place, and her wand swept out in front of her menacingly. Eileen looked as she was, a powerful angry witch.   
“I will not forget this, Lestrange.” Her voice was low and husky, promising things to come. The dark haired male locked his amber gaze on her, his lips smacking suggestively. He did not seem remotely concerned with the dark aura emanating from the angry female. In fact it seemed to excite him as he perused her form insultingly, leering at her form.  
“I like this new side of you Prince.” He taunted unwisely while his brown robes flapped around his head. Even hanging helpless with his arms loose around his head, he showed no fear. “If I had known, I would have brought my paddle. I'll be happy to explore this with you back at school.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.  
The blond moved one arm across his chest, while the other went up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Upside-down, his eyes scrunched tight for a moment as he breathed in deeply, trying to hold in his patience. For a moment, Hermione felt sorry for him.   
Eileen trembled beside her before she burst. “Sod off Lestrange!” Then she viciously moved him through the air until he was over the pond. Hermione carefully maneuvered the other man over as well. Their eyes popped out of their heads, alarm crossing their features for the first time.  
“My lady, perhaps we can talk about this in a more controlled fashion. Maybe dinner, with the best house wine?” Her blond spoke smoothly even as he eyed the distance between himself and the pond.   
Hermione found herself grinning evilly. “No.” She said plainly before flicking her wand elaborately.   
They plummeted into the pond.  
Seconds later they were back up in the air. They hung there for a matter of ten seconds, sputtering and trying to shout. Then they were dunked right back into the pond again.   
Laughing, they left the charm in place as they strode away. Eileen showed her a secret spot on a small cliff overlooking the lake. Giggling maniacally they watched as the charm played itself out over the next ten minutes.   
Finally there was one last plunge, and the sopping wet boys pulled themselves out of the pond, crawling through the mud to flop onto land.   
They watched as the dark haired men tore his cloak off and threw it to the ground in anger, and then kicked off his shoes. The blond calmly removed his clothing before wandlessly and non-verbally summoning their wands. Hermione smiled at this little trick, as he would remember her every-time he did that.  
The sun was setting as the men walked through the forest once more, back to wherever they had come. Hermione waited until they were completely gone before they headed back on their own to meet Hector for dinner.

Later that night saw Hermione and Eileen in bed, clean nightgowns and braided hair. They silently read together, shoulder to shoulder to relieve the stress of the day. Eileen was not comfortable to talk about it, beyond giving the names of their tormentors, Abraxas Malfoy, and Michael Lestrange. She warned that they had friends in high places, including a prefect named Tom Riddle who was in the running for Head Boy.  
Absorbing the information, she had nodded before suggesting a reading session in bed. Now they were each ensconced in their own reading, ignoring the unspoken problem. Hermione also refused to think about how easily she had responded to a stranger's touch, and what may have happened if Eileen hadn't been there.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay!

The next day Hermione received her Visa to go to school, as well as her list of supplies for the year. Eileen had limited her schedule to the core classes, but Hermione's included Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. Both had dropped Astronomy and Care of Magical Creatures. 

Excited, they eagerly made plans to go into Diagon Alley that day, and Paris for robes the next day.

 

Diagon Alley was everything Hermione had dreamt of an more. Hector calmly explained there were many sections to Wizarding London, but Diagon Alley was the safest, cleanest, and most important. It consisted of numerous shops and apartments. Briefly Hermione noticed gates which lead into other sections, but she firmly withheld herself from exploring. 

Wizards and Witches of every color strolled around the cobblestone streets. A vibrant family of redheads sat at what looked like an ice cream parlor, while a black family entered what appeared to be a wand shop. An Indian man lead his covered wife into a different shop, their son obediently following behind them. 

An Asian couple bickered with one another, while several blond girls giggled as they went by. All in all, it was a busy morning with plenty to see and look at. Their Uncle had decided to escort them only because he needed more ingredients in a different alley. He left them with a pouch of gold and asked them to meet for a late lunch at two. 

Eileen, who was a little sullen and withdrawn today, perked up as they entered the bookstore that headed towards. It was very popular, and crowds of people milled around the store. Being a fellow bookworm, he had allotted them enough to purchase their school reading as well as one or two extra books of interest. 

Between the two of them, they emerged flushed an hour and a half later having spent half of their time within the store. Hermione shrunk their items down, and placed them into a bag. It suddenly reminded her of the beaded one that she had had when she arrived, and Hermione resolved to investigate it when she went back to her Uncle's house.

Silently the two girls next headed to get Potion ingredients. Eileen grew sullen as people she went to school with passed, pointing or laughing blatantly. 

“Chin up.” Hermione whispered. “I bet you got more O.W.L.S than all of their ancestors combined!”

Eileen couldn't prevent a laugh at that, and her good mood slowly restored itself. Her dark purple sundress made her hair radiant in the sun, and her complexion flushed with rare happiness.

With a half hour left before lunch, they decided to go the pet store. They debated on whether to purchase something, torn between a companion and the threat of bullying. 

Eileen was leaning toward a lovely little black owl, while Hermione went to peruse the others. A smooth caress against her knee, just below the green of her sundress, had her looking down. At first she thought it was an explosion of brown fur, but upon closer look, it had two intelligent honey eyes and a tail. A cat. She was looking at a cat. 

Memory sparking, Hermione bent down to its level and extended her hand slowly towards it. It meowed and then sniffed her hand delicately. 

“You have a beautiful coat.” She murmured, admiring the way the dark brown was run through with bits of red, white, and tan. 

“ _ That _ is a menace. You might want to be careful.” A storekeeper came up behind her, causing the cat to stiffen and slink away a few feet. 

Hermione stood slowly and turned. “What kind of cat is it?”

The older man scratched his head. “Nearest we can figure? At least part Kneazle. Mange is smart, but he is also a terror. Doesn't let anyone near him and won't eat nothing dry. Been thinking about putting him down. Been here seven years and sold six times.”

Hermione stiffened. She turned to the clever cat who watched them with his head tilted. 

“Would you be willing to come to Hogwarts with me?” She said softly. Once more she extended her hand. He accepted it.

She spent the next five minutes lavishing him with praise as due his station. As she walked toward the register, Eileen joined with her new little black owl. The bell tinkled softly as she paid, and only the fact that Eileen stiffened gave her an alarm. 

“Well, Well, if it isn't my little water nymph. Clothed this time.” A silky voice drawled slowly, causing her to stiffen. Her new familiar, Mange, turned toward the source and hissed. 

Slowly she turned as well, adjusting her dark green stole across her shoulders as she faced the blond haired menace. This time he was accompanied by others. He was immaculate once more, assuming a wide stance that emphasized his shoulders. A mantle of considerable consuming power wrapped around him. Arrogance. She recognized that so well.

“I see you got the seaweed out of your hair.” She said evenly. “I hope your abode, excuse me, Manor, was not too far away. Otherwise it would have been a long rather wet walk. You aren't of age yet, correct?”

The two men in question scowled, the blond losing his smug look. However, it was the appearance of one of the newer men that suddenly drew her attention. 

What exactly that was, she wouldn't be able to say, only that his presence on her mind was suddenly noticeable. He had dark wavy hair with a thickness to it that Lestrange's shiny silken hair lacked. Although he was to the side of Malfoy, something brought her to label him as an equal. Even now his deep blue eyes were scanning her over as she turned to face him, calculating in the extreme. 

Fair in form, his features were also pleasant to the eye, but somehow were also cold. He was just as tall as Malfoy, and yet seemed to take up more space. 

A pulse of Power beat a tattoo against her skin, making it tingle in a different way than Malfoy's. Whereas his felt pleasant, a caress maybe, Riddle's felt darker, more aggressive. They were probably on the same level of power, but the way they wielded it was on a different scale.

Eileen sucked in a breath sharply behind her. 

Malfoy stepped forward, blocking the other man from her gaze, and dropped a pleasant mask into place. That cheesy smile had probably won more hearts than it was worth. The shopkeeper had come to the front of the store and was now watching them from behind the counter.

“I do not believe we have been properly introduced. I am Abraxas Malfoy.” As he stepped closer, presumably to kiss her hand, Mange growled, warning him to stop. Malfoy stopped abruptly, eying the cat with dislike. 

Hermione tilted her head to the side analyzing him as insultingly as he had done previously. She took measure of his immaculate robes, cut to accent his shoulders. His shoes were dragonhide, and shone brilliantly even in the confines of the shop. The matching gloves brought the eye to his hands and the little snake-like cuff links there. He was clean shaven, and his long blond hair was tied back at the nape. At last she met his eyes which were sparkling with suppressed, mirth? Lust? Amusement?

“A pleasure to meet you, I'm sure.” She said at last. 

Malfoy's smile widened at her lack of a name before he gestured to his companions. “These are my brethren. Michael Lestrange, Cygnus Black, Dayton Rowle, Felix Nott, and Tom Riddle.” 

Hermione's eyes skipped dismissively over the others, focusing more intently on the last one, Tom Riddle. Something about him was bothering her, and she couldn't finger it. He had a dark closed off expression, his eyes like flint, and his posture stiff. Their names all sounded so familiar, and yet it was his that made her the most uncomfortable.

“So you must be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger.” Malfoy calculated. “You are staying with him currently, are you not?”

Hermione returned her gaze to his. “I am.” She stated simply. “And we are meeting him for lunch at two. It's been a pleasure gentlemen. Shall we see you at Hogwarts?”

“Oh yes.” Malfoy said, his voice lowering as he once more stepped closer to her, trying to intimidate her with his size. Did all wizards grow to be so tall? His gaze locked on hers before dipping briefly to her decolletage and then back up to her fierce burning gaze. “And I look forward to it.” Mange hissed once more, clearing the path as she strode confidently forward once more with Eileen and owl cage in tow. 

Her cousin had been silent the whole time, and only seemed to actually breathe again when they were at the restaurant. 

“I don't know how you do it.” She whispered. “They are so large and strong, and, and, gross.” Hermione patted her shoulder with sympathy. 

“I'll be there to protect you this year. No worries.”

 

Abraxas turned to his friends with a smug smile. “Well?” 

Tom Riddle straightened, resuming his normal stance. For the meeting he had withdrawn inside himself, trying not to attract attention. 

His dark eyes were calculating as they swept to the door and back again. 

The amount of power radiating off of the curly haired witch was intoxicating, calling to his own coil deep inside.

“She has potential.” He said at last. 

“That is one live-wire you reeled in Malfoy.” Rowle playfully punched his shoulder. “I thought she would burn you through with that glare.”

“If she is going to burn me through, it would be in bed. Merlin! If you could have felt her melt in my arms...”

Lestrange cackled. “I still say you are nutters.”

Cygnus gave him a wry glance. “That's because you like them dumb and broken.” Lestrange only laughed, not bothering to deny it.

“Beyond all that, she seemed remarkably intelligent and, well, aware.” He said thoughtfully. “She kept glancing at you, my lord, rather than Malfoy. I think she felt something was off.”

The Dark Lord quirked a brow. “Indeed.” Finally he shrugged. “We'll see how worthy she is once we enter school. She may only be worth the quick fuck, Malfoy, but breaking your contract is rather extreme. Do you know her finances? Her family? We'll see once she is in a different environment, one where we hold more control.” 

Then he could observe her in a place where he held power, and if necessary intercede on this budding infatuation. It didn't matter what her background was if she had the power to succeed. He had proven that himself, had he not?

Nott grinned. “I'd say. Head Boy and a Prefect? Slytherin has all the power this year. I wouldn't mind having power over that tight ass. Did you see that saunter? Oh, once you are done with her of course.” He added hurriedly to Malfoy, whose stance had tightened.

Malfoy felt his fists clench as he tried to stem something ugly and dark from rising within him,  forcing himself to relax. “Of course.” 


	5. Chapter 5

The trip to Paris the next day was exciting for both girls. Even though neither had specific interests in clothing shopping, having the option to spend an entire day shopping in Paris for clothing and books, with an unlimited budget, made both girls skip a little as they went down the cobbled streets. How many girls, in their lifetime, had the option to buy clothing from the world famous fashion center of Paris? The amount of Galleons they ended up dropping by noon was staggering, and indeed Hermione was quite sure she had never spent so much money in her life. 

Eileen was smiling in a way Hermione had not seen, and indeed, she had a feeling that the girl had only smiled and brightened in this way very few times before. Usually a very broody, solemn girl, Eileen was laughing with Hermione the whole trip, her face bright with a big smile, and her body completely held upright with no slouch.

After buying a large amount of robes, skirts, blouses, underthings, shoes, and working pants for an obscene amount, they proceeded to change into a pair of new robes and skirts and sashay around Paris. The amount of positive feedback they got back lifted their spirits higher, and caused even Eileen to smile at the catcalls. They visited the bookstore, and bought ten books each that couldn't be found in England. 

On a whim, they also went to a luggage store and each bought a new set of trunks. Her trunk was a nice soft blue with tan highlights, and had nine keyholes, and each opened to a new space with a key. It was purely magical, but practical, she decided. Eileen bought a similar one in beige with soft blue highlights, the inverse of hers. 

Lastly they went to a jewelry store and bought matching anklets with their initials. They placed opals into it, with glorious onyx surrounding it. It hung delicately on their ankles, easily covered, but always present.

A blond gentleman paid for their ice cream, and an older gentleman with a full beard complimented them for their decorum. They spoke briefly in a cafe while sipping coffee and eating fruit. They were offered rides, which they politely declined, as well as flowers, sweets, and little slips with names and addresses. All of them were very polite and not obscene in the slightest. Eileen was able to look them in the eye, even with her dislike of men. Indeed, she even brought herself to speak with a few of them. 

By the end of the day, when they Flooed back to the Mansion with their shrunken purchases and pink faces of joy. Uncle decided he couldn't care less about the money spent as long as he could see their beautiful faces. In fact he took a couple of pictures of them laughing, in their new clothes, and sparkling anklets. 

 

The next day, the house was completely alive with a flurry of activity as the two girls packed everything they dare for Hogwarts. Their trunks unique features only made them more excited to pack more items, including way more books than they might need. Hector had to put his foot down and limit them to twenty books each. 

After some haggling between the two girls, they finally agreed. Then came the clothing. They finally decided not to bring all of their new items, but left behind five outfits each. Hector became irritated enough to promise them another Paris shopping trip if only they would hurry up. 

With Opera, the little black owl that Eileen had bought, in tow, they finally were ready to leave. Mange had been asked to tolerate the journey in the carrier, and he had agreed only after Hermione promised to take him out on the train. They all piled into a horse-less carriage, and set off within minutes. Eileen and Hermione chattered excitedly while Hector watched amused. 

The two girls had hit off better than he could have imagined, and it warmed his heart to see Eileen, who had had a very rough time so far, become so warm and full of laughter and life. Hermione was a gem, and so very clever. He hoped she was sorted well and the two girls would not separate. And Hermione's sudden and intense interest in warding spells made him feel at least a little better. That girl had more oomph in her spells than most of the wizards of his acquaintance. 

The hour ride over the fields, forests, and shires of England quickly came to an end. Eileen grew more and more quiet as they approached London, and he was worried for her even as Hermione gripped her hand. 

“Sixth year is a big time for you girls. Am I right to suppose that you are allowed to attend the Balls during the year now?” 

“Yes.” Eileen whispered. “Fifth years are allowed to be invited, but sixth years actually receive invitations.” 

Hermione said nothing, looking out the window as they approached London. As they did, she could feel the magical pressure on the carriage increase. Finally, with a pop, they landed on a grassy area.

“Where are we?” She said with wonder.

Hector smiled. “This field is the landing area for those with carriages. We are within the train station in an underground cavern. London is warded to field all incoming vehicles here. It's to prevent a sighting.” he said. “Five years ago there were no less than ten sightings by carriages who had forgotten about their shields. Aristocrats seem to forget that they don't inherit their brains too.” He added. 

Hermione smiled as he opened the door and handed the ladies down. She could see that there were at least ten other carriages within the area. Hector magicked their trunks, and then walked with them through the mess of carriages to a large archway. 

Hermione was staring around, fascinated, as they entered a large station area. The mosaics on the walls appeared to be at least five hundred years old, and detailed glass was glistening in the large room. A magnificent red and black engine stood before them, steam lazily curling toward the ceiling. 

Women were expected to keep their hair up and covered while in public. She was glad her curls were gathered back into a french braid and tucked in. The heat and humidity was enough to make her frizzy locks disastrous. Eileen had also pulled her hair back, coiling the long length into a magnificent bun. Little wisps had escaped the sides however, and she absently swiped at them as she gazed around the large platform. 

“Isn't she something?” he uncle said admiringly. “Still looks as new as when I went to school. Well in you go ladies. I don't do well with good-byes, so I shall only say see you soon. A kiss from each please.” 

Eileen and Hermione giggled as they each reached up to press a kiss on his cheek from either side. He gripped their waists in a firm hug while they did so, making them laugh and squeal as he twirled them lightly. Their skirts billowed lightly, and their ribbons streamed behind them before he put them down. 

Hermione clasped his hand. “See you at Christmas uncle. I shall write often! And do try and eat once a day at the very least.” 

Eileen clasped his other hand sternly. “I already instructed Mink to feed you once a day no matter what. She will threaten to dress you in bright pink otherwise.” 

The older man smiled jovially and kissed each girl on their foreheads once more, his eyes taking a light sheen. “You two are too much for me. I give in. Somehow I shall force myself to eat once a day.” 

They smiled and with one last glance, headed into the nearest train car. Inside was as bustling as the platform had been, only without the parents. Kids shrieked in excitement, and first years nervously huddled together. Second years ran around excitedly, even as the older students loftily ordered them away. 

“Let's go to the back of the train.” Hermione raised her voice a little to be heard over the din. 

Eileen nodded, and they brought their trunks with them through the crowded corridors as they headed to the back. Finally they found an empty compartment. It was the second to last one, and thankfully quiet. 

With a groan they tucked their trunks above them, latching the harness firmly so they stayed in place. Hermione closed the door and drew the curtain down so no one could see inside. She smoothed out her blood red skirts and the light pink blouse she had worn with it. Paired with white sandals, a pearl necklace and matching pearl earrings, she felt very grown up and confident. 

Her mother's necklace was not visible tucked as it was by her chest, and the chain so fine she was sure no one had noticed it. Eileen had worn black skirts and a grey blouse. She went with grey and black oxfords, and a matching set of onyx jewelry. Their anklets peeked and glinted from just above their right ankles. 

They sat down next to one another with a big sigh of relief. Humming slightly, she kicked off her sandals. Eileen looked down surprised. With a brief glance to the door, she did the same. 

Hermione giggled as Eileen chose to rebel. “I do have to go to a Prefects meeting in an hour though.” She said doubtfully. 

Hermione wiggled her toes in front her. “Until then, why not relax? We don't have to change into our uniforms for another two hours, yes? Relax!” Taking her purse, she opened it and called for her book on warding. Eileen smiled and asked for the one on Familiars. 

Speaking of which, Hermione turned to open the cat carrier. Mange greeted her with a yawn and a stretch, curling up in her lap immediately. With a murmur of appreciation, Hermione stroked him compliantly, absorbing his purrs with happiness. She stayed on the floor of the compartment, insisting it was more comfortable. 

Eileen stayed on the bench after letting Opera out of the window to fly behind the train. The little owl nuzzled her owner affectionately before leaving as the train picked up speed. 

The clamor in the halls calmed down now, and they shared their compartment amiably while they read. The drawn curtain dissuaded visitors for the entire hour before the Prefect meeting. Ten minutes beforehand Eileen very reluctantly put her shoes on, patted her hair once, and headed for the front of the train. The first car was dedicated to the Head Boy and Girl, as well as Prefects. Eileen did not wish to stay there though. 

Hermione hummed to herself in her silence, finishing an interesting chapter on wards. The train created a familiar rocking rhythm and white noise. Sleepily she felt her head droop as she finally switched to laying out on the bench of the train. A thick scarf made an adequate pillow, and Mange curled up over her heart protectively. He had tired himself out by investigating the compartment, sniffing and smelling the seats, the door, and window. Satisfied, he had dedicated his ride to cleaning himself until his human also expressed interest in sleeping. 

She must have drifted off, because the next thing she knew the door had opened hurriedly and then closed, only to burst open once more. She sat up with her wand out, dislodging Mange with a sleepy hiss. Eileen had come to crouch fearfully by her head, tear tracks on her cheeks. 

Disoriented, Hermione blinked slowly as several figures came into focus. In the doorway stood the dark figure of Lestrange. He was leering eerily at Eileen as she crouched by Hermione. His wand was not drawn, but he had Eileen's sweater in one hand. Behind him stood Cygnus and Nott. They were shifting a little to peer inside, clearly torn on whether or not to stop him from going further. 

“Hermione.” She whimpered softly, “I..he...” 

Lestrange strode forward confidently, his swagger a little unnerving. Nott was now leaning in and leering at Hermione, taking in her mussed features and sleepy appearance. Her skirts showed a little thigh from where she lay, and her top three buttons had come undone in her sleep. The coiffured hair from before was now frizzy and stuck out slightly in a puffier state. Black seemed torn as to which girl he should look at. 

Seeing his gaze, Hermione quickly sat up, standing in time to block Lestrange as he came to stand close to Eileen. “What in Merlin's name are you doing?” She hissed her eyes coming to life immediately. “Give her back her sweater and for goodness sake do something about that.” She gestured down at his midsection which was tented. Her abrupt no nonsense voice brought all three men to an abrupt stop. 

Lestrange smiled. “Can I do it at the same time?” he said lewdly. He leaned forward and looked down the front of her blouse. “Or would you rather take care of it?” Hermione flushed red. 

In one fluid motion she drew back her hand and landed him a solid punch the way she had been taught. By who? That didn't matter. What did matter was the solid crack of bone on bone, and the way Lestrange howled as he staggered back clutching his nose. 

Hermione shook out her hand and advanced menacingly. “Is that how you treat a lady?” She said in a low even voice. “Is this the type of treatment English women must endure from their men? Or are you scum just oddities within your class.” Lestrange was red with anger, and even as he held one hand to his nose he stood solidly in front her. 

Hermione came right up to him, not afraid to stand nose to nose with the lewd lout. “I knew you were stupid that night by the pond, nearly raping a girl on her family grounds, but this blatant assault takes the cake.” She brandished her wand and held it firmly to his throat. 

Beside her, Mange was hissing with all of his might. He twined between her feet protectively, taking a swipe at the men's ankles if they came to close. Lestrange jumped back to avoid a swipe at the same time Hermione pushed him. He landed on his ass in the hall, even as the other two had leapt out and to the side. “Stay away from us if you know what's good for you.” She threatened from the doorway. 

“Hey no fighting in the halls! Put that wand away!” With a glare, Hermione turned to face the student coming towards them. 

“That guy stole my sweater.” She said. “And now he comes to accost us in our compartment.” The student took a step back at her tone, and looked doubtfully at the three guys practically cowering in the hall. Lestrange had a bloody nose. 

Calmly Hermione picked up the sweater that had dropped on the floor. The student, a Prefect, obviously had no idea what to do. 

“Well. You have it back, so no need to take this further. Anyway it's almost time to change.”

Hermione checked her watch. She glared at the other men. “Don't bother us.” She turned on her heel and slammed the door behind her. She put up several wards, silencing, and alarm spells. When she lowered her wand, she turned to find Eileen weeping in the corner. 

With a cry, Hermione pulled the weeping girl in her arms and calmed her down. Obviously Eileen being a Prefect was a weakness they meant to exploit. They talked as they dressed, and decided to turn down the position of Prefect once they entered the castle. Hermione also silently resolved that she must, at any cost, become a Slytherin. 


	6. Chapter 6

They changed in silence, Eileen in her black and green robes, and Hermione in just black. According to the maker, the robes would automatically change to the color of her House once sorted. It was impressive in the extreme, and she would have loved to investigate the charm work, but priority was getting her and Eileen safely to the school. 

This proved difficult as upon exiting the train, she was ushered with the first years into little boats that she was told would cross the lake. With a last glance, she saw Eileen hop into a carriage full of Ravenclaws, putting her mind at ease for the time being. 

Hermione was able to concentrate on the beauty of the surrounding woods, and the way the lake shone. Rounding the bend, the castle came into view in its full glory, and Hermione felt herself catch her breath. A sense of relief coursed through her, which was a little confusing. This place felt like home already, though she had no idea why. 

She took in the grounds, from a little shack hidden among the edge of the forest, to the distant fields of pasture, and the medley of trees which dotted the gardens. 

A rustling to her right made her turn sharply, her wand drawn. There were over a dozen centaurs at the edge of the forest, their heads and bodies barely visible between the trees. They simply observed, and she lowered her wand, watching them. No one else had seemed to notice so far, so feeling bold, she bowed to them. 

A first year screamed behind her, and she turned sharply to see a massive bunch of tentacles lazily drifting out of the lake nearby. One of the teachers spoke up.

“First years, don't be alarmed. This is our resident giant Squid, Bartholomew. He is very friendly and likes to be pet. I do believe he is also partial to toast, apples, and pickled cabbage.” The professor cleared her throat, and Hermione was finally able to spot her. 

“I am Professor Merryweather, the Care of Magical Creatures professor. I look forward to having all of you in my classes this year.” She beamed warmly at them, and some smiled back. Others gripped the sides of the boats like there was no tomorrow. Obviously there were still some islanders who did not have sea legs.

Hermione turned to find that the centaurs had already left, but they were more than three quarters of the way there, so she may have just lost them in the woods. The castle loomed largely above them, and the pure scale of size in its confines was awe inspiring to even the most terrified child. 

It was still day, so they could see every details in the gargoyles, figures, and carved images of the lower levels. She could see there was stone work done everywhere, but could only see halfway up the castle. Interestingly there was no ivy growing on the castle, nor lichen or mold. The stone was clean, changing hues in the passing sun. 

They were really close now, and she could see the landing. The other two first years in her boat were happily shouting now, and she occupied herself with studying the passing stone until they arrived. 

Once everyone was inside, they were greeted by a woman with brilliant yellow hair. She had matching yellow eyes and sharp nose. 

“I am Professor Hawkling, the Defense of Dark Arts professor, and Head of Slytherin House. I welcome all of you to your first year of Hogwarts. I see we have a couple of transfer students. In that case I hope you have a wonderful time here in Hogwarts, and a better last few years than what you had previously. 

Take a moment to compose yourselves before we enter the Great Hall. You will be sorted into one of four Houses. Take heed that every House has its pros and cons, no matter what stereotypes you may hear.” 

Her sharp eyes found Hermione, before going to the other five transfer students. Including herself, there were four new girls, and two new boys. The other three girls appeared to be siblings, ranging from third to perhaps her own year. One boy was maybe a fourth year, and the other looked to be her own age. 

Her musings were cut short when the Professor reappeared and opened the doors with a wave of her hand. They were led through a foyer and before two massive oak doors. A type of crest adorned those walls, including carved ivy which slithered around the door. 

Then they were opened and Hermione held herself up straight as they walked in two rows to the front of the room. There were already students in the Great Hall, seated at four tables which ran lengthwise down the room. Distinct crests of each House hovered above each table, and she could see that they were already casting jests at one another, as well as some glares. 

The first years pooled together in the front before what appeared to be the professor's table. A black witches hat stood on a stool. An older man stood, introducing himself as the Headmaster. He appeared to be a weak sort of man, and his double chin and portly belly were as much a British stereotype as he carefully styled sideburns which ran along the side of his face and came to points at his chin. His mustache was thick but styled. All he needed was a safari hat and clothing, and he would fit in India. 

The other Professors were a little more intimidating. There was a woman with dark hair and sharp eyes which were constantly scanning the room. A younger blond man in a fuchsia suit and black robes held her eye for a minute. Contrasting this man was an older gentleman with bright orange hair and the longest beard she had ever seen. His hair was gathered at the nape, but it looked to be just as long as the beard. His eyes were an extraordinary blue color, and he wore shockingly red robes with gold silver and bronze lions on it. They were constantly moving and mock growling at one another. Another man with bright orange hair, possibly a twin or brother, sat quietly at the other end of the table, his robes a muted brown.

A middle-aged woman sat next to Professor Hawkling, and she seemed a nice contrast to the sharp angled professor. She had a nice brown shade of hair and sparkling hazel eyes. Another portly man sat next to her on the other side, his hair slicked back and his beard every bit as styled as the Headmaster. A brunette man drinking delicately out of a styled tea cup, his pinky primly in the air, and a man with glasses and dark hair sat beside him, his brown eyes sparkling as he watch the tea cup sway while changing colors. 

Her attention was recaptured as the hat on the stool burst into song. It recited a splendid ditty about the four Houses, and the wise motion to stay together rather than apart. It also warned of dark times ahead, and a whirlwind of romance and violence which would transcend time. This caused the girls to squeal, and the guys to groan a little. The Headmaster's eyebrows had shot up, and professor's murmured. 

Hermione took the time to find the Slytherin table, and located Eileen at the top of the table closest to the professors. No one wanted to sit there obviously, and the ones that did were silent. She was examining her feet, or, she realized, staring at her anklet. A smile brightened her face, and she kept her eye on her cousin as the Sorting began. 

 

Abraxas watched his prey as she stood in the front of the room. She seemed to be examining the professors, tuning out the Headmaster completely, a wise move. Her hair had been pulled back into a french braid, and he could only imagine what that would do for her curls. He had seen her briefly though on the platform, and she had been very nicely dressed indeed. French fashions if he wasn't mistaken. 

And little Eileen had also been fairly pretty, which was saying something as the little silent dark haired girl he had learned to avoid had actually been smiling. He had never seen her smile, ever. The Black brothers had claimed her a long time ago anyway, seconded by the Lestranges, not that he was inclined to go after her in any regard. The girl may have cleaned up and filled out, but it was her cousin that drew the eye. They were both understated beauties, but the new girl seemed to glow with some inner power which ensnared the senses. 

They were obviously close, as even now the girl  was searching the room for her cousin. She quickly spotted the girl, and a bright smile lit her face in a way that made him suck in a breath. Her smile was beautiful. 

Her attention fixated on her cousin, and she didn't fidget or move nervously like the others. Instead she stood up straight and polished like the gem she was. Oh how he wanted to own her, brand her about, and take to his bed. While he wasn't quite as power hungry as Riddle, he could still feel the power broiling inside of her, and the way her aura pulsed. He  _ coveted  _ that.

God he hoped she was Slytherin, or at least Ravenclaw. Although if she was in the other two he could lay claim to her and tease her without limits. He just couldn't ever marry the chit. Not that he wanted to, but the instant attraction between them, and the intensity of their chemistry was something he had been looking for in a wife. Right now he was slated for that blond, Greengrass, and a colder bitch there never was. 

What was her name? He listened avidly now as they did Franks, Ashley (Hufflepuff). Then it came. Harmony Jean Dagworth-Granger. 

She had the audacity to catch his eye and glare just before she glided up to the little three legged stool and sat down primly with her ankles crossed. Feisty witch.

Harmony. 

He rolled it around on his tongue, twirling it in his mind. Harmony. It suited her actually, and even better, it suited his own last name. Harmony Malfoy. Harmony Jean Malfoy. Abraxas and Harmony Malfoy. His grin got bigger.

The hat was placed on her head, and he noticed her expression change. Determination? Shock? Panic? Confusion? 

To everyone's surprise the hat took a long time with her, longer than any of the others. In fact, it took a full ten minutes for it to come to a decision, drawing every eye in the room to her face. They would remember her name now. 

Finally the brim opened, pausing briefly. “Slytherin.” It croaked. Croaked! The hat had never ever croaked before. 

It received incredulous stares from every direction.  Hermione simply got up and placed the hat gently down on the stool. She gave it a little curtsy, making a few people laugh, before leaving the stage. He could see that every professor had their eye on her as she glided to the side, some more calculating than others. Without much ado she walked over and primly sat next to her cousin. 

Finally Slytherin burst into applause, cat calls going up from a few younger men. Abraxas glared at them before turning to gaze at his new world. The new world which was ignoring everyone else in the Hall as she held hands with her cousin.

“You look like the cat who got the cream, Malfoy.” His friend, Orion Black sat across from him, his chin resting on his hand as he observed his friend. The comment drew the eyes of the rest of the Knights to him and he smiled wider. Some of the men cackled and elbowed one another. 

“I think I just have, my friend.” He turned to gaze at Harmony Granger, someday-soon-to-be Malfoy. “And she will be delicious.”

 

Hermione barely listened as the Headmaster made a few announcements. The forbidden forest was forbidden, the lake was not to be swum in, and the Astronomy tower was to be used for classes only. It wasn't until she announced the Head Boy and Girl that she sat up straighter. 

“...and may I introduce our Head Boy for the year, from Slytherin, Mr. Tom Riddle.” There was a loud clamor from Slytherin, but she also noticed that many of the girls were also clapping loudly and screaming. “And the Head Girl, our lovely Lucretia Black from Ravenclaw.” Ravenclaw greeted this enthusiastically, as did the other Houses. Hermione frowned. It seemed like a slight against Slytherin actually. 

Down the table, Tom Riddle stood up and flashed a smile at the other tables. He bowed slightly and sat. On the Ravenclaw side, a handsome girl with long black hair stood as well. She smiled at all the tables in turn, nodded at the professors, and then took her place once more. She could see that shiny badges were pinned to their uniforms as well. 

“Don't let her fool you.” Eileen whispered. “She has tried to shut down the Gob-stone club for a couple years now. They are all air-headed fools who idolize the Slytherin men and ignore their own. How they got into Ravenclaw, I'm still not sure.”

“I guess standards have dropped as more and more students are admitted.” Hermione whispered back. 

They both giggled quietly as the Headmaster continued to talk. Finally he allowed them to eat, and the food appeared on the large serving platters before them.  

“Who else is in your club?” They refrained from taking food until the mad rush of hands was cleared. For such high Slytherin standards, the table manners were pretty bad. 

“Mostly Ravenclaw guys, a couple of Hufflepuffs, and some Gryffindors. There are only two Slytherins, but they were teased for joining me, so I don't know if they will come this year or not.”

Finally the platters were clear of hands, and Hermione started to serve Eileen some of the meat closest to herself. Eileen did the same for her, and then they switched plates. Eileen finished dishing first, and waited for Hermione. Then they clinked their glasses together in a toast before picking up their forks and digging in. 

They were left alone by the others, something Hermione appreciated. Apparently Eileen really did have a solitary image here, which was a shame. 

The food was excellent, and they partook of buttered spinach, grilled vegetables, juicy chicken, pulled pork, sweet sliced fruit, and the best biscuits Hermione had ever eaten. She had three, with butter and three different types of jam. Eileen watched amused as Hermione closed her eyes in pleasure as she finished the last biscuit. 

“I have never had anything as good as that. Ever.” Hermione murmured content. “And now I am in a lovely food coma. Seriously.” She leaned her head against Eileen's shoulder causing her to smile. “Where is the bed, I am ready to sleep this off.” 

Eileen laughed, patting Hermione's hand on her lap. “Dearest cousin, please be prepared. We still have much to see! I plan to give you a tour of the castle, and you must see the greenhouses! There are so many things to show you.”

Hermione smiled with her eyes closed. “The library had better be on that list.” 

“Of course my dear.” Eileen answered in a low mock male voice. “It will be the last thing you see, before I ravish you in the corner.” 

Hermione sat up laughing, pelting Eileen with some of her peas. They giggled loudly, until a voice cleared behind them. 

They turned and looked up to find one Tom Riddle looking down at them, bored. “When you are finished acting like school girls, I am to show everyone to the Slytherin dorms. We are waiting.” He turned on his heel. Hermione stuck her tongue out at him, causing Eileen to gasp. 

“Come on let's go follow His Majesty.” 

“Talking about me?” A deep suave voice came up from their side. Hermione stiffened before turning around slowly. 

“No.” She curtly gave Abraxas a stern look before turning back around to walk after the retreating Slytherin group. 

Abraxas followed in a saunter, hands in pockets. He kept pace easily with them, until they slowed to follow the other Slytherins. “I wouldn't mind, Harmony.” He accentuated her name with relish. “Or you could just call me Master. You know, make my dreams come true.” He winked at her as she looked at him incredulous.

Then she shook her head. “I thought you couldn't get worse.” She said sadly. 

“Congrats on getting into Slytherin, by the way.” he drawled, ignoring her last statement. “I knew you weren't destined for one of those boring Houses. Not with that wicked temper of yours.” Abraxas leaned in close perusing her form blatantly as he did so and lowered his voice. “I can't wait to see you snap.” 

Her cheeks flushed and she ducked her chin. “I am usually a very even tempered person. That night, I acted on instinct, and I apologize.”

He looked at her with bright green-grey eyes. “You apologize? For dunking me in the pond, covering me in seaweed, and making me walk home with the bluest balls I've ever had?”

Her chin snapped up and she look him in the eye. “No.” She snapped. “I apologize for not giving you a more solid thrashing. For making you think you stood a chance with me. You don't. That night was a fluke.” Eileen squeezed her hand in support. Abraxas smiled and leaned closer. His voice lowered several octaves and raised the hair on the back of her neck. She didn't see his eyes begin to lighten.

“Ten Galleons says that night wasn't a fluke. I bet if I were given five minutes alone, I could make you-”

“Abraxas.” A voice cut him off, and he leaned away from her ear reluctantly. He leaned back against the wall confidently, and she briefly wondered where he got it from.

Then the owner of the voice strode forward. Hermione and Eileen strode away, following the crowd farther away. Abraxas watched her walk away, loving the way she glared at him. His eyes flashed. Yup. She was full of fire that one.

Then he turned to face his friend. “What was that about.”

“There is a meeting for tonight. Be ready.” The other man walked away slowly and Abraxas clenched his fists. Tom Riddle was mighty high-handed for a half-blood. Friend or no, he needed to take care what he did. 


End file.
